


Pour some sugar on me

by parkkate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Head Auror Harry Potter, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-War, dancing at a muggle club, romione snogging, tequila shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are at a muggle club. How they had Harry agree to this is still a mystery to him. He is not feeling it. At all. Until he sees Draco Malfoy.





	Pour some sugar on me

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Harry, Ron and Hermione are at a muggle club. How they had Harry agree to this is still a mystery to him. He is not feeling it. At all. 

He is standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor, while people keep bumping into him. It would be easier to just dance, like the rest of them, but there is no way in hell! Instead, he watches Ron and Hermione dance in a tight embrace. He blushes as they start snogging like there’s no tomorrow. Bloody fantastic! The music changes and some dude starts singing something about love being like a bomb. Ron and Hermione seem to agree. Harry sighs and wishes he could vanish on the spot. But disapparating in the middle of a muggle crowd would probably end in a hearing at the Ministry. Head Auror or not.

He looks around, trying to ignore the fact that he’s basically standing there all alone like some idiot. That’s when he sees it. Across the room, barely visible. But he would spot it anywhere. A wisp of blond hair. His heart starts beating faster. No, it can’t be. Not here. He narrows his eyes, tries to see past the sea of people. He starts to move forward unconsciously, pushing people gently but firmly out of his way. And then he stops dead. Because this has to be some kind of trick. An optical illusion of some sort. It can’t possibly be true. Draco Malfoy, embraced by a muggle girl, moving carelessly to the music. 

His hands are on her waist, while her arms are thrown around his neck. They’re grinding their hips together in an almost obscene way. Harry can’t look away. He has to swallow around the lump in his throat as Malfoy moves his hands up and down the girl’s waist. Harry can only see her from the back, but that doesn’t matter, because he can see Malfoy’s face. His lips twitch in a little smirk, his eyes are closed. He seems to be utterly consumed. Harry is shocked. He didn’t anticipate to see someone he knows tonight. Let alone Malfoy. Like this. And he certainly didn’t anticipate how that would make him feel. All weirded out and confused.

As Malfoy draws the girl even closer, Harry makes a chocking sound at the back of his throat. He can’t possibly watch another second of this. It feels like he’s intruding on a very private moment. Turning on his heels, he pushes through the crowd hastily, making his way to the bar. He is panting as he clutches the counter.

“What can I do for ya?” the bartender yells at him.

“Firewhiskey,” Harry shouts back. The bartender looks at him quizzically.

“What was that?”

_ Oh shit! Muggle club! _

“Just a beer, thanks!”

The bartender nods and hands him one. Harry takes it with slightly trembling fingers. He takes a big gulp, hoping it will wash all the weird feelings out of his system.

He feels somebody coming up beside him. Their arms are almost touching.

“Tequila,” he hears the person order and his head whips around. He stares in bewilderment, but his stare isn’t met. The person is looking straight ahead.

“Enjoyed the show, Potter?” he drawls. So at least some things haven’t changed. But a lot of other things sure have. Malfoy’s hair seems a bit darker than it used to be at Hogwarts. He’s still tall and slender, but there’s something about his posture. It’s different. Harry can’t quite put his finger on it. And then there’s the fact that Malfoy is standing in the middle of a  _ muggle _ club. Apparently perfectly at ease. 

Harry isn’t aware that he’s still staring at Malfoy. Open-mouthed. He finally snaps out of it when the bartender slams down Malfoy’s drink in front of them. Harry flinches and almost loses his grip on his own drink. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees long, slender fingers curl around a shot glass. There’s a lemon placed on top of it and a little salt shaker beside it. Malfoy takes the lemon and rubs it slowly on the back of his hand. He then takes the salt shaker and sprinkles the little white crystals on his wet hand. Harry is mesmerized. His eyes follow Malfoys hand as it puts the salt down and takes the shot glass again. He startles as Malfoy turns slightly towards him. His eyes wander back to his pale face. His lips are still curled into a smirk. Figures!

Harry frowns and mentally berates himself for paying so much attention to this git. He tries to concentrate on the music instead. Just as he hears something about sugar being poured on someone, Malfoy lifts his hand. It’s almost at his mouth as Harry watches Malfoy part his lips. His tongue darts out quickly to wet his lips. And then Harry’s eyes widen in disbelief. Very very slowly, Malfoy licks the back of his hand. Like a caress. Like it’s someone else’s hand. Like it’s turning him on. It makes Harry’s scalp prickle. His mind shuts off. The only thing he’s aware of right now is the tumultuous feeling in his stomach. Caused by Malfoy. Malfoy, who at this moment locks eyes with him.

He is looking straight at Harry as he lifts the shot glass to his lips and tips his head back. Harry watches Malfoys throat as he swallows. Harry’s mouth suddenly feels very  _ very _ dry. Malfoy slams the shot glass down and places the lemon between his lips. He starts sucking and Harry feels his knees buckle. It doesn’t get any better when Malfoy takes the lemon out of his mouth and places it on the shot glass. Because now Harry can see Malfoy’s lips again. Slightly red and swollen from the acid they just touched. They look like Malfoy has just been kissed. Harry’s eyes widen yet again as Malfoy drags a thumb across his bottom lip. Slowly. Sensually. Deliberately. Green eyes snap up to meet gray ones. He is ready to scowl. He is not ready, however, for the smoldering look that is greeting him. He gasps as Malfoy takes a step closer. Harry feels Malfoy’s arm touch his and a shiver runs down his spine. The intensity of Malfoy’s gaze makes Harry hold his breath. Malfoy leans closer, so that Harry feels warmth on his face as Malfoy exhales.

“Ever tasted Tequila, Potter?” Malfoy asks. His voice is raspy. Harry can’t process. Malfoy is standing too close. He’s radiating so much heat. Harry shakes his head. Not really in answer to Malfoy’s question, but rather to gather himself.

“Can’t say that I have,” he says and prays that his voice doesn’t betray his state of mind. It is barely a whisper. But Malfoy is standing so close, it doesn’t matter. He hears it. And his smirk widens. It seems to be what he wanted to hear. Harry readies himself for the taunt that is surely coming his way. But there are no words, no sneering, not even a smirk anymore. Because Malfoy leans even closer. So close, Harry can’t see his lips anymore. He instead feels them on his. Hot and soft and unexpected. Malfoy doesn’t move his body. He only presses his lips more firmly onto Harry’s. Harry is utterly confused. The only thing he sees right now are pale eyelashes, resting softly on high cheekbones. Suddenly he feels a hand on the small of his back. He’s being dragged closer, until he feels his chest connect with Malfoy’s. The other hand is slowly moving up his arm. It lingers briefly on Harry’s bicep. It causes goosebumps.

It finally curls around Harry’s neck. He feels Malfoy slightly move his lips, pull them back a little. His bottom lip brushes lightly over Harry’s. And then it is replaced by something much hotter. And wet. Harry freezes when he feels Malfoy’s tongue trace the line between Harry’s mouth. This is so bizarre. But -  _ oh my god - _ it makes his knees go all weak and his heart hammer against his chest. He can already taste something on the tip of his tongue. Something salty. And sour. Harry gasps when he feels Malfoy’s hand on the small of his back move a little lower. Apparently that’s all the invitation Malfoy needs and then Harry’s tongue tastes something else. Something bitter and unknown and overwhelming. Something infatuating. He feels Malfoys tongue caress his own. It’s slow and soft and absolutely hypnotizing.

Something inside Harry snaps. He closes his eyes. He can’t take it anymore to just stand there and do nothing. His hands fly up into Malfoy’s hair. He pulls him closer, starts moving his own tongue and is rewarded with a deep moan Malfoy makes at the back of his throat. It thrills Harry.

And in this moment, he realizes, that he doesn’t care if this is bizarre or weird. If he had known that kissing Draco Malfoy would feel like this, he would’ve done it so much sooner. He will probably be slapping himself for the rest of his life for all the time he spent  _ not  _ kissing Draco Malfoy. But, Harry decides then, that doesn’t matter either. 

He will just have to make up for lost time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Say Hi on [tumblr](https://parkkate.tumblr.com/) :)


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